The Photoshopped
by XoXo Writers Mistress
Summary: Prepare for the worst.
1. Classies

**Chapter I - Classies**

**DandranePOV**

As I tried to explain how to pronounce my name for the millionth time the whole class was hunching over their desks and narrowing their eyes at the board as if it would help them gain understanding of what was written on it. "Dan," I said, very slowly, "_drane_." Gesturing to my name for every syllable. "Dandrane."

They all tilted their heads and rested them on their shoulders. _Damn, these people are stupid. _I smacked my face, a show of my frustration, but not a sign of giving up. I never give up.

"Okay!" the teacher, Mr Glowits, said with a hand on my shoulder. "Let's not steal any more of the precious time we have. Ten minutes have already gone by with explaining your name. Please, seat yourselves." He looked at me, who was yet to move as the other students did. "That includes you too, Miss…" He cut himself off, picked up a paper from his desk and pushed his glasses up his nose bridge. Frowning, he squinted his small eyes and his chin was suddenly trying to reach the floor. "H-Ha-" he stuttered, "Hadi-Had-Uh… How do you pronounce this?"

I rolled my eyes, gave an almighty sigh, and pointed at my name. "Well, you begin with the _H_…"

* * *

><p><em>Daaamn this shit is boring<em>.

I gave the headboard my coldest glare.

_Daaamn I hate Spanish._

I looked around the classroom.

_Daaamn these people are ugly._

"Daaaamn this shit is boring," I exclaimed loudly, interrupting Mrs Something, didn't care to remember her name. Her eyes darted up from the book she had just been reading aloud from, narrowing at me. Well, narrowing as much as they could, considering the Asian type to them.

"_Perdón?_" she asked.

"Never mind," I said flatly, "See you tomorrow." I left the classroom and continuing down the hall, I wondered what to do. I looked to the window. Not a chance in _heeell _was I staying inside. The suffocating air of the corridors was tainted with the lingering odours of ordinary, filthy commoners.

_Daaamn this is pissing me off._

I walked out of the building, putting my headphones on and searched for a window low enough to work as a mirror. When I finally found one in this god-forsaken school and started practicing, the bell rung, screeching right through my music.

_Fan_fucking_tastic. Let's go find the midget. _

**ZenaPOV**

I looked about the still empty classroom, unable to stop squirming in my chair. After having met the teacher, Miss Marielle Veronique, my senses had only gotten edgier. Every distant sound of chatter or laughter made me rise from my chair, using the footrest of it as my ground. Resembling a five year old as always, by the disappointed glint in Miss Veronique's eyes with which she returned to her papers.

Five minutes of the ticking clock and the maddening, buzzing sound of the fluorescent lights later, the chit-chatty voices and footsteps echoed into this classroom. I flew up on the footrest again. Seconds passed, and the first pair of backpacked, pencil-armed students entered, followed by a whole wave of them.

_So many people!_

I flashed them a perky, involuntary smile and waved.

"Hi new classies!" I beamed loudly.

For a mere second, an awkward silence overtook all voices and actions. The students – brunettes, blondes, pink-wearing, blue-wearing – stared at me, their brand-new classmate imported from Sweden, with several feelings of shock, confusion, reproach, excitement and most of all curiosity. As always. Something among them stirred then, and the students remembered their goal which they had entered the classroom with. Slowly, almost hesitantly, they stalked over to their seats, a low murmur emitting the dispersing herd.

"I´m Zena!" I unperturbedly continued, not awaiting Miss Veronique to speak for me. "You pronounce it with _ee_ or _e_, doesn´t matter! I´m from Iran, but I was born in Finland, and lived in Sweden, and finally moved to the States. Been here for less than forty hours with my BFF!

"Nice to meet y'all!" I finished with a smile that had widened for each word, just as mock incredulity grew among all others. I watched them eagerly behind me, and they watched me. No response was made for a second, and that was enough for me to pipe up again. "Oooh, I´m sorry, should I have said that in French?" Several pairs and lone eyebrows shooting up. "Je suis Zena, on le prononcer avec _ee_ ou _e-_"

"_That_"- Miss Veronique cut in with a breathy voice –"is quite enough. Thank you." She shared the briefest, almost unnoticeable sympathy with the baffled students, before regaining control in her posture. "Good day, everyone. Now that our new student has introduced herself, class may begin… Maintenant!"

Doing as told Miss Veronique took the attendance, my classies could not seem to tear their eyes away from me. I felt them on my back, my cheeks, my nose, my sadly swelled up hair from a recent, panicked shower caused by a baby on the plane barfing over me. I smiled to as many as I could, making most of them indiscreetly turn away, when I noticed an awful emptiness conquering Miss Veronique's desk.

"I'm sorry", I interrupted innocently, leaning across the desk on my forearm, pointing with my free hand. "But I couldn't help but notice that you have no pencil sharpener." At her bewildered face, I explained matter-of-factly, "I need a pencil sharpener." There was that overly amusing silence taking over the classroom again. But Miss Veronique was quicker than she had been before.

"Then you must bring your own, Miss…"

"Esfandiari." My eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, not liking what I sensed. "Had you actually been a teacher considerate of her students, or her résumé, you would have inquired my surname fifteen minutes ago. When we met. When you should have at least checked my name instead of sighing about the dreariness in correcting the tests of what could be our future senators.

"Now, does anyone else have a pencil sharpener? I'm _sooo_ sorry for the delay I've caused the lesson, but I simply _cannot_ survive it without a pencil sharpener…"

* * *

><p>Skipping down the hall alone – for some reason, my fellow classies had evacuated the classroom in a matter of seconds when the bell had rung, just like the lesson before – I suddenly stopped, having reached a crossroad. There was a scarce amount of students, wandering about with and without books and company, in all different directions. I looked ahead, where another turn quickly followed, then to my left, where some tall jocks were heading my way, and lastly, to my right. This road continued for a while, and I sniffed the air delicately.<p>

Smiling broadly, I lifted my right leg and bounced off the left one, almost hopping my way down the right corridor. I could hear incredulous murmurs and barks of laughter behind me, and knew it was only a matter of time now.

"Hey, _girly_", said a way too arrogant tone to my left. Giving the towering teenager a huge smile, I kept my pace.

"Hello!" From the corner of my eye, I noted how he seemed to be unable to come up with something to say. And so he did the only thing he could – cast his jock-minions a cunning sneer to seem confident.

"So, _girly_", he repeated in that tiring tone. "What's your name?"

"Tittie!"

Choking on what seemed to have been his saliva, the jock fell behind for a second, giving me the satisfaction of a succeeded plan. "I- I'm sorry – _what?_" he squeezed forth in between his coughs.

"Zena!" I chirped.

He frowned. "Didn't you just say-"

"Zena?" I finished, crinkling my nose and grinning with my mouth wide open. Taken aback, the jock had finally realized his mistake and retreated to known territory. Without. Another. _Word. _Then, a brilliant thought hit me. "Oh, hey, jock-schmock!" I shouted, turning around to the addressed one. He looked back with resentment, his friends chuckling at me. "Where's the cafeteria?"

"Further down the hall", he told me after a lot of inner debate. I smiled my thanks, and gleefully continued on my way. Two minutes later I had finally found my already favorite part of the school. _The cafeteria._

In awe I walked inside where the tables were already crowded by teens eating and babbling away in ignorant bliss. Seeing some girls from my previous class glancing at me, I managed to catch some of their treacherous words.

"They're even weirder than the _Cullens…_" a brunette, Lisa, said, joining the others in their agitating snickers.

Still wearing my five year old like grin though, I went to buy me some food. Once done, I surveyed my situation – where to sit. Close to the centre of the room I spotted Dandrane, standing behind an empty chair by the jocks table and making exasperated gestures with her hands, as if though she was trying to explain something. And, judging by the looks on all of their faces, they were not following.

"But…" I whined for myself, "Where is my clique?" My dark brows furrowed as the corners of my mouth dropped. "Screw it," I said, pulling myself together, "I´ll create my own clique. Dandrane!"

Dandrane looked up and once she caught sight of me quickly gathered her things and gave the others an apologetic smile over her shoulder as she hurriedly strutted my way, swaying her hips enough to turn heads. _Right, left, right, left, right…_

"Why did you not wait for me?" I inquired, looking up, since I was by far the shortest one in our duet.

**DandranePOV**

She had the most adorable looking sad facial expression I had seen in a long time. Her big doe eyes glistened with tears in the light coming from the sun outside and the fantastically irritating lights of the cafeteria. She was pouting with her bottom lip that was slightly shaking, while the upper one was slightly sucked in. She was looking up, so her chin was tucked out a bit further than usual.

"You disgust me," I said, looking at Zena. She blinked at me, and then turned her head down in shame. I rolled my eyes, "Why do you keep faking it? When you knooow I always get it when you do?"

"Shut up. Anyway! D'you wanna know what _I _just heard from a bunch of babbling buffoons?"

Dandrane gave away a snort now. "Whatever did you hear, oh eavesdropping Gamgee?"

She paused, failing to put in the dramatic effect she desired. "We're weirder than the _Cullens!_" I frowned, looking at Zena, who grinned at me.

"Who the hell are the Cullens?"

* * *

><p>Zena kept fantasizing about who these notorious Cullens could be throughout our social studies lesson and gym class. Her constant babbling faded into a shrill beeping noise in the background as I dragged her along the running track. We were supposed to be warming up. Which failed, epically, as Zena kept knocking down all the runners with her limbs flying all over the place.<p>

I came to an abrupt stop and soon felt a face, boobs and legs crash into me, almost knocking me over. Turning around, I saw Zena. Babbling. On her now sore butt, which she was absentmindedly rubbing.

"…that really hurt, by the way, and I still wonder if the Cullens are good at gym…"

"Will it ever _cease?_" I sighed, pulling her up.

"I hope I'll get to meet them in the future, maybe we'll turn out to be great friends, do you think they'll like me? I hope they will, and maybe there's even someone short among them, like me! I wonder what he or she would be like, I hope that person has a great sense for fashion…" The rest was muffled behind the grip of my cold hands.

"Shut up, for fuck's sake!"

"Mm mhmm hmm, mmhmhmmh! Mm_hhh_, mm!"

"… Miss Hadziegric?" the gruff voice of our gym teacher suddenly blurted out. "… And Miss Esfandiari. What exactly is going on here?"

"Mm-"

"_We_", I cut in, not removing my hands from that terrorising machinery of speech, "were just about to go fetch some water. Right, babe?" I gave Zena a pointed look, who stared at me, frowning like she did not agree at all.

"M-"

"_And _later we'llwatch _Phantom of the Opera _with a bunch of junk food that'll compensate for all the highly valuable calories which we lose during your most efficient exercises, Mister White." I flashed him a persuasive smile, squeezing Zena's cheeks a bit too hard when I felt her lips parting. She wailed noisily, but Mr White had already gotten enough and walked away to reprimand some of the girls simply lying scattered along the track like talkative corpses. It was the perfect opportunity to sneak out to the changing rooms without causing a bigger scene.

We did not get further than to the hall though, partly because Zena continuously fell behind, and then because, well, someone bumped into me. Really hard.

"_Ow!_" a noisy, girly voice exclaimed, and I looked a bit up to see a girl with her hair in a tight, black ponytail. Water dripped from a bottle in her hand, which had also managed to stain her too small white tee, and the all too familiar stuck-up, bitchily confused frown was on her face.

"Ex_cuse _me, could you like, _watch _where you're going?" she asked shrilly.

I eyed her, head to toe. "You're the one who bumped into me, but whatever…" I moved past her, noting Zena trying to do the ninja-walk along the wall, but a wet hand flew to my shoulder, gripping it. I stopped dead in my tracks. Slowly, I looked down at one of my favorite Christian Audigier tees, to see that a filthy commoner's hand had stained it with not only water, but what I realized was sweat mixed with make-up from her forehead.

I turned around with a glare that would hopefully set her ablaze. It did not.

"You have to apologize…?" she said almost questioningly. I raised a brow. "_Apologize_, you know, to say you're sorry about something…?"

_Oh, I'll give you something to say you're sorry about. _"Dry-cleaning."

She started in shock, and then laughed mockingly, pissing me off even more. "Ex_cuse _me?"

"Is there any other advanced phrase in your vocabulary than 'excuse me'?"

She stared at me for a second and then opened her stupid mouth again. _She looks like a goldfish,_ I mused. "I-I'm sorry?"

"I will accept your apology, once my shirt is clean on your expense. Of course." I smiled brightly, probably annoying her much more than I had intended.

"Why would I do that when you're the one who bumped into me?"

I felt my face heat up, and strained to keep my voice composed. It wasn't helping that I was currently having my period, which equals mood swings. "Correction: _You _bumped into _me_."

"You stand corrected," Zena suddenly implied, joining us. "Literally."

"I beg to differ!" Miss Long Legs fired back. "Who are you anyway? A leprechaun off duty?"

Zena's mouth fell open, and even I was taken aback. _Impressive. _"I applaud you," I said irritably, yet nodding my approval, "Though nobody is allowed to call her by her true name but _me_, I have to admit, that was a nice line."

"Whatever."

"Now," I reached my hand out toward her, my fingertips barely twitching with restraint anger, "May I please have the money for the dry-cleaning?"

"No."

"That is a shame, I will have to take them by force if you don't cooperate," I looked at her suggestively.

"You should listen to her," Zena nodded as she stood on her tip-toes.

"Shut up, midget!"

_Oh, that's it._

I shoved her shoulders, hard. She staggered backwards with a gasp. _Oh please._

"_Woo-kay _now, hold on a se-" Zena tried, but a fist had already struck my solar plexus. "Or you could just tear each other to pieces, yeah that's just great, TEACHEEER!"

After catching my breath I made for a counter attack. I brought my right hand back and hit her with an uppercut in her chin. Her head tilted back violently and she hit the back of her head on the wall. I took the opportunity to grab her neck and knee her stomach once. She folded over in coughs, and I was just about to kick her to the ground when a hand grabbed my leg.

The hand twisted, my body following, and then started dragging me backwards along with it toward the exit. I shouted to let me go, not escaping the opportunity to cuss like a sailor, and struggled violently as I was still only standing on one leg. Or more like jumping on it.

"Nniargh! _Zena, help!_" I yelled, but she was just standing there, gawking at my kidnapper as if though he sparkled. The last thing I saw before the door shut in front of me was the teacher, pulling Miss Long Legs away. I could feel the rain in my face and on my body and I growled, trying to turn around while still hopping along with the mystery hand. I was screaming and cursing at whoever it was the whole time.

"Who the hell do you think you are, interrupting a fight between women like that? Huh? You think you're sooo cool, don't you? Like you saved me, or some shit? Not likely! I was doing just fine before you came and ruined it all. How am I going to get her to pay for the dry-cleaning now?"

I was cut off by the sudden movement of my captor - he, and I knew it was a _he_ from the strength of this guy - had let go of my leg and turned me around so I was facing him. Or facing his torso, was more like it, this man was _tall_. I looked up and really wished I hadn't. I wished I was back in _there_ being 'taken care of' at the principals office. It felt like I had been punched in my solar plexus again because the dude was _breathtaking._

His hair was a menacing, chocolate mess, like he had been running his fingers through it too much. His hairline was almost straight, he had sharp eyebrows and a small layer of stubble across his cheeks and jaw. His eyes were placed kind of deep into his rectangular face and they were a colour of golden honey liquid. His nose was straight and he had beautiful cheekbones and his jaw was too delicious looking for his own good, I wanted to nibble on it so bad… And he had that totally fuck awesome sexy-ass dimple in his chin. And his lips were so kissable, they were full and luscious and just perfectly sculptured, he was the most ravishing man I had ever seen. And I had only seen his face. Yet.

As my eyes adjusted to his handsome face I realized what situation I was in – my eyes widened and I shuddered as I ripped my shirt off of me.

"Mja-ah-aah," I yelped shakily, "I'm filthy! Disgusting! Ew! Ugh!" I started pacing and jumping around as I made exasperated gestures with my hands. I was feeling atrociously dirty and I had to make a visit to the shower, quickly. While I was screaming complaints and shuddering and feeling dirty I heard the man talking to himself.

"What to do," he muttered, and my mind noted briefly the British accent, which added more to his sexiness, if possible, "God? Help?" He waited. "Oh, right – I'm cursed, you won't help me. Uh…"

I was still pacing.

"Excuse me? Are you alright?" he asked me hesitantly. I stopped and looked at him, my eye twitching. _Oh my god, I think I'm losing my sanity._

"Do _not_. Use that phrase _ever_ again."

He looked confused as he said, "I´m sorry?"

"No, not that either." I resumed my pacing.

"Can I help you?"

I looked at him, desperate and utterly annoyed at myself. "Take me home so I can tear off these clothes and take a shower. _Fast._"_ I think I'm gonna cry._

"Okay…" He turned around and started walking.

"Hey, where are you going?" _Why did I just ask that?_

"To take you home." He turned around, "Or is that not what you asked me to do?" I stared at him, dumbfounded, but followed him nonetheless. I walked a few steps behind, staring at his black leather covered back and wondered what it would look like without anything covering it. I didn't notice the black MV-Augusta F4CC until he was shoving a helmet in my face.

"I can't ride that," I told him seriously but he just rolled his eyes at me and tried handing me the helmet again.

"And why is that?" he asked, "If you're scared you don't have to be, it's not that dangerous as long as you ride with me. I promise," he assured me with a wink. If I had not been occupied with my disgustingness I would have been either swooning over him or jumping him. Instead, I glared at him.

"No, I'm not scared. I have my own damned bike at home: so don't give me that bullshit. I can't ride it because if I do I'll have to wrap my arms around you as you drive and then you'll get dirty, as well as your bike because stupid me sat on it and then you'll have to wash the bike, take a shower and change and wash your clothes."

We stared at each other for a few moments, he was seemingly staring due to the fact that he didn't know if I was serious or not, and if I was he didn't know _how_ serious. Lucky him for not knowing. Yet.

"That's ridiculous," he snorted, "I won't get dirty from you touching me," he said matter-of-factly as a smile graced his full lips.

"Yes, you will, because that bitch touched me with her disgusting sweat and make-up covered hands, which leads to my conclusion that I. Am. Dirty. And I am not putting my butt on that thing. I will walk," and so, I turned to start walking but lets just say that it turned out to be harder than I thought. Suddenly my feet were no longer making contact with the ground and I was being carried, princess style, to the bike.

"What the-!" I had now been placed on the monster machine and a helmet had been placed in an awkward position on top of my head as mister hottie was taking a seat in front of me.

"Shut up, I will drive you and you are going to thank me when we get there."

Brrr_ooom!_

In panic, I wrapped my arms around his waist but before we were out of the parking lot he stopped and hesitantly turned his head around and asked, "Where do you live?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hello dear classies! Tina the Terrorist here together with Element Of Art. We salute you.**

**In case you were wondering how to pronounce the notorious last name of Dandrane: Ha-dji-e-gr-itch.**

**Over and out.**


	2. Ch II

Ch II

The sun was not shining.

"Uuugh."

The sheets were everywhere, the bed was not. I forced my ten-pound eyelids upwards. Concentrated on my surroundings.

_Raspy material beneath me... paper-folded birds hanging from a ceiling... wooden legs of a chair... boxes scattered everywhere..._

_Why am I lying on the floor?_

I heaved my limp body to the side, having a momentary look of the boxes under my bed before there was a low _thump _and I was staring at the ceiling yet again, in the position of Da Vinci's Vitruvian man.

"Ouch." I stretched my arm out, grabbing the post of the bed and pulling myself to a sitting position. After blankly staring into space for a few minutes, I pushed my butt off the ground, staggering to my feet. The hardest part was over.

Walking to the full length, silver-framed mirror, I nearly jumped with surprise.

A dishevelled bird's nest, sloppily dropped onto a head which screamed for an emergency clean-up. Dark auras encircling lifeless, brown eyes. Bra violently torn to the side.

"Why was I sleeping with my bra?" I loudly asked nobody in particular. Then shrugged and made to walk out of my room, although I had to struggle since I kept stumbling into the half-empty boxes of books, photos, paintings and other gadgets. "Oh well. _Dandraaane!_"

"_What is it?_" she shouted into what seemed to be her pillow, judging by the muffled sound of her voice. I skipped into her room, stopping by her humongous bed that made mine seem tiny in comparison. She was lying flat on her stomach, her face buried into the pillow, and her hair nearly took more place than the rest of her body.

"It's morning", I said merrily.

There was silence. Then, slowly, her head turned sideways, not even attempting to pull away the masses of hair shielding her sight. I smiled brightly at her. I knew she could see me, but without a word, she turned back.

"It's seven o'clock! _Waky waky!_" I called, jumping up and down. She groaned an answer, waving a dismissive arm at me before dragging herself off the bed. I watched numbly as her hair fell down on her back in perfect, light brown waves.

"What?" she asked bitterly, scrutinizing my current situation.

Sheepishly, I said, "Your hair's pretty." She rolled her eyes, mumbling something about mangling midgets as she headed out the room. I lingered, observing the black and dark blue theme. I abruptly stopped my gawking and regretting the choice of not choosing satin sheets as well when I caught sight of her two nightstands.

In a matter of what, twenty _awake _hours, one of them was already being heavily assaulted by the weights of her many note- and sketchbooks, a dream-diary and a numerous amount of mechanical pencils who all had had their erasers used to the very brink. The other nightstand was bearing her huge laptop and a glass of old water, which I grabbed with a roll of my eyes. I walked into the hall that connected our bedrooms and walk-in closets. Remembering the size and contents of mine, I scurried down to the kitchen to shorten the time which separated us.

**DandranePOV**

My dearest midget looked as if she had been assaulted by evil fairies this morning as she had woken me from my blissful sleep. The morning had contained of her flying about the house looking utterly confused and carrying different pieces of garment every time she passed me. She was crying out complaints that her chamber of secrets had not yet been fully stocked while I was shuffling myself from the bathroom to the kitchen and back again in my underwear. As I was about to drag myself back up the stairs to my own chamber I suddenly had a very tense looking face and worried eyes staring into mine only inches away. I looked down slowly, too scared to make any sudden movements, only to notice Miss dwarfiness on her tippie toes. I stared back up.

"Yes?"

"Help," she requested, though I have no idea how any sound had been able to escape those tightly pursed lips. We stared at each other before I stepped around her, feeling her gaze on me all the time. I walked into my room.

"Sit." She sat. I waltzed into my chamber of untold secrets and threw on a pair of light blue jeans and a grey t-shirt and then waltzed back out. Zena had seated herself on a small chair in front of my vanity table, tense as a blowfish. "Now, my lovely pygmy," she snapped her sorry eyes to me, "what can I do you for?"

"Tell me what to wear," she began. "And do my make up for me... and hair." My hazel eyes stared at her. "... Please?"

"Why does that sound like a question?" I asked while starting toward the door. "What are my options?" She beamed before running after me and started throwing around clothes and turning her machinery of speech on full blast. The rest of the morning, as well as the school day, turned into a hazy memory in my dreadfully overloaded software.

**ZenaPOV**

Shopping was awesome.

Longview presented to be quite a suitable location for my monthly, garmental stocking. With having found the most wondrous second hand shop with a phenomenal supply of everything and anything remotely close to fashion, I was satisfied to almost no end. Although the demonized kid in one of the Halloween-masks that kept stalking me did make me jump onto the counter yelping like crazy.

After making my much desired leave, I was now skipping down the darkened streets in peaceful bliss. Sunset was dawning upon the city, and I figured I should be heading home. Although the fact that Dandrane had not even worried enough to send the tiniest remark on my delay made me a bit sour. She was probably dancing her sexy butt off, not even feeling the need of catching sight of mine since the other dancers also had marvelous booties.

_I don't like them_, I decided and turned down the street towards the four-story parking lot. My eyes somehow zeroed in on the sign with the 'P', and something sprang to my mind.

_Pencil sharpener!_

"Almost forgot!" I murmured lowly to myself, and quickened my pace, the multiple bags in my hands almost accountable as weapons the way they swung like propellers around me. With these in a poor, defenseless book shop plus the accident in the second hand shop, I would be banned from the shop district.

_And I do not want that_.

My skipping died down a few steps past the sign. The parking house was shadowed at this time of the day, only a few areas and spots lit since most lamps had died out or been crushed most likely at the hand of hormonal teenagers' ravages. The depth of the room was indiscernible, as it was settled into a menacing blackness. Barely any cars were left, and, slightly panicked, I noted the elevator was out of order. A dark set of stairs leading to what my mind made out to be a torture chamber loomed at my far right, next to the elevator, and there were none of those spying, deceitful cameras whirring all around the place either. The place might as well have had a marketer outside gleefully screaming for rapists to make themselves comfortable.

I almost laughed at my ridiculous fantasies, but the manipulative fear urging my muscles made it come out as a nervous cackle. Holy shit, I was destroying myself. With my heart beating faster than my engine could probably ever go, I scoured the first floor for my sneaky, happily green vintage 1966 Porsche. Stupid, when I already knew it was on the fourth and highest floor. _Curse mom for passing on her like of heights to her poor, about to be raped in a multistory park house daughter._

If this was a result of bad karma, I quickly sent the shop assistant I had almost knocked over during my stunt in the second hand shop, every other being I could think of and even jock-schmock apologies for my mischief. They were all halfhearted though, since they drew another cackling giggle from my throat.

I mustered up the scraps of courage I had left, brought out my cell to use as a flashlight and almost ran to the stairs and up them. The fourth floor was in a much greater shape due to nobody having the enthusiasm spending so much energy to break a few lamps, with lights illuminating all in all four fifths of the floor. Unfortunately, my car was not visible in one of those merciful parts, and I gave the gods a sarcastic thanks. I buried my phone deep into my pocket and felt a bit braver now that I was slightly annoyed. I tried to fuel the emotion as I began to stalk around the place, searching for a hint of green. I could only recall it to be somewhere near or along the wall. Finally I found it in the far, left corner, hidden behind one of the thick pillars. I was seriously going to request the system of _Kitt_ for my car after this journey was over.

Clicking the trunk open, I was just about to throw in my bags when I heard the screeching of a car echoing in the silence. My breath hitched as I registered it was not one, but two, and they were both skidding. When no crashing sound came I knew they were steered by loony, _the Fast and the Furious-_addicted car enthusiasts. I prayed for them to simply decide the first floor would do, but the gods had noted my lack of gratitude. The cars sped up to the second floor, and moments later their sounds echoed from the third.

I suddenly came to my senses when I heard loud music and male voices following the sound of the growling engines. "Shit monkey ape donkey _testicle_", I hissed as I flung the bags into the trunk and violently pushed it shut as well. I cursed my stupidity when the noise of my ungraceful, old Porsche momentarily drenched the sounds from the approaching maniacs, and hurried to hide behind a completely shadowed pillar not too many feet away. A second after I had taken refugee behind my cover the cars, filled with what reminded me of chimps at war, drifted into the room.

Unnecessarily silently, I sneaked a peek around the corner of the pillar. I first caught sight of the obviously upgraded old Ford Mustang, and then the closely following car which I could only note was a very shiny and gawk-able Nissan. From both of these nuisances random limbs and heads stuck out from the front windows, moving to the heavy beat of the thrilling hip-hop emitting the awesome speakers. _Bad__**ass**__,_ I thought, speechless.

Brakes hit the ground roughly, and having parked the cars perfectly in parallel ten slots from each other, four very alluring guys stepped out of the devilish vehicles. With their backs all turned to me I could hardly make out any faces other than two, who were perfectly alike blondes, although one had longer hair than the other. The twins had been in separate cars, one driving the Mustang and the other shouting in the passenger seat of the Nissan. The hair of the second passenger was barely a stubble, and I could only see the back of his torn jeans and dark green jacket. The three of them were all shorter than their towering, darker friend with short, black hair that curled a bit outwards at the nape of his neck.

_Oh_. I found that special trait some guys had been blessed with to be very, very enticing. My eyes inescapably traveled down his broad, brown leather-covered shoulders and back, his grey longer T-shirt underneath and the black jeans with the grey sneakers. _Oh._

They all disappeared behind the wall before I could make out any more hotness, descending the many steps of the stairs loudly until they were at the very bottom. On my tip-toes, I scrambled over to the wall facing the street, peeking half of my head up behind the concrete rail, watching The Fantastic four walk out of the building with confident strides. I took it as my cue and finally got up, blessing my noiseless flats as I followed their example. My small, still wobbling steps did not quite match up with theirs though.

_20:37 PM_. I lowered my arm with a sigh and quickened my pace down the street, which was luckily the opposite direction of which The Fantastic four had headed. It was becoming darker for each passing second; it was the breaking dawn of the Creepers. And Dandrane still had not called.

I found a bookshop relatively fast and left with a bit more than what I had originally planned. Five pocket books and two pencil sharpeners – one electric for home – weighed my right side now, and I was planning on making my last stop.

**DandranePOV**

As soon as I had gotten back home from school I had changed my clothes and taken a seat in my black sports car - I was feeling like going out, you see, because I wanted to do something. Or someone.

I was now wearing a pair of baggy blue jeans, a white tight top and white sneakers along with a green satin vest. My hair left out, the curls framing my face were hanging loosely along my back and over my shoulders. Glossy lips, smokey eyes and a few pieces of jewelry. I rode fast, the trees along the road changing from sharp forms of dark brown, moss covered tree trunks and green leafs to a wall of fluctuational shades of blurry green.

I found myself in a city, smaller skyscrapers covering the land that was being held hostage by the companies that owned them. I cruised around for a while, looking for something to do, somewhere to stop. Pulling over after noticing a small pool hall I took a quick look in the rearview mirror before stepping out. It wasn't late, the sun had yet to set, concluding in the fact that the hall was not too populated for the time being and so giving me a chance to reward myself a drink and reinvigorate my billiard skills.

There were a few people playing though, men in their twenties mostly. Smoke rose from the small white sticks that were placed between their lips, creating a thick cloud just below the rise of the ceiling. Glasses and cans filled with alcoholic yellow liquid had been positioned along the sides of pool tables and the men were either holding themselves up with the help of their billiard cues or sagging against the walls, if they were not flirting with some girl by the bar who had been stupid enough to get here early or trying to hit the right billiard ball with their pool cues.

I had been playing and drinking for about an hour when they came in - the hockey players from Ireland who I later learned were leaving for Canada the next day. I do love me some muscle and accent.

**ZenaPOV**

"One family bucket, please."

The cashier nodded, not returning my appreciative smile. "Drinks?"

"Two cokes, to take home."

"No shit…" she muttered lowly under her breath as she typed in the order.

My smile grew wider. "No thank you, that would be kind of gross to have on my meal", I remarked while putting the exact amount of money on the counter. "No offence though. We all have our preferences, I guess…"

Her tired face fell as she registered my words, and then grew agitated. She angrily stalked over to the back, grabbed the finished order and almost slammed it down. The coke got a somewhat milder treatment, though it did stain a bit on herself.

"Fucking…"

I grabbed the container of the cokes and the bucket, walking away with a roll of my eyes. _Touchy_.

I left KFC while nibbling at the crust on one of the chicken legs sticking out of the edge of the bucket, hearing nothing but my own footsteps in the settled night. The only light outside was either coming from the flickering streetlights or the clubs, bars and fast-food restaurants still open. I had stayed in the bookshop until the staff had had to force me to pay and leave, so it was past nine now, for sure. I glowered at my pocket. _And __**still**__ no angry reprimand from Miss D._

I was nearing the park house again when a set of familiar voices reached my ears. In alarm, I looked behind and saw The Fantastic four chatting not far behind me. They were coming from a bar, and I did not miss the drunken slur the ones that the passengers had to their tones.

_No no no no_, I thought frantically when thinking of me and them, most likely _alone_, in that building. They would devour me since I wore nothing but an airy, waist-high skirt and a loose, multi-patterned, long-sleeved belly jumper, and what was I going to do? Throw chicken at them?

I decided to do the only thing I could before they would fully notice me. I turned not too abruptly, crossing the street and continuing down the other pavement in the opposite direction. They would see me, of course, but they would not be stupid enough to follow me into the lit district. I kept my gaze steadily ahead as they came closer, and closer.

Multiple eyes were on me, I knew, I _felt_, and then they suddenly stopped. Well, one of them did, the others simply caught the drift pretty fast. I continued in the same pace, trying to maintain my calm as they fell into a suspicious murmur. My heart began to protest, my mind and muscles prepared for an approaching flight and I looked to the nearest bar. I heard their footsteps behind me, edging up all the faster, and entered the crowded bar in sheer panic. I ignored all the stares and scurried into the smelly bathroom, setting down the stupid family bucket, the bag from the bookshop and the cokes on the trashcan.

"What now?" I whispered frantically. A brief idea hit me and I brought up my phone, sending a quick _SOS_ to Dandrane. I hardly remembered the name of the bar, though told her it was something with a bunch of numbers and letters, which I thought it was. Then I waited. Ten minutes went by without an answer, and I almost threw the cell into one of the spotted sinks. Tears built up in my eyes and I began to pace, running my fingers through my hair and fumbling and squeezing my lips in my exasperated musing. A plan was inexistent even after another ten minutes. Perhaps they had already left, anyway. Or they had not even followed me in the first place. Maybe one of them just had a severe case of urinary infection and did not want everyone at the block to hear it so instead they murmured about it in a creepy, serial-killer fashion before deciding it would be for the best to go and make an emergency visit at the WC.

I decided that was probably it, and splashed myself with some water from a tardy tap. I did not completely trust the quality of it, but it cleared my reeling mind enough to push the fright away and bring out some confidence. I grabbed my stuff, poked the door with my foot hard and watched it swing open, leaving it ajar at a few inches. Peering through and into the limited view, I remained frozen in my suspicion until a couple came wobbling in, almost knocking the door off of its hinges as well as myself in their halfway lovemaking.

"So much for reticence", I scowled at them as they spun into one of the grey stalls, before I stalked out of the smelly area. I walked right into a sweaty one instead, duly –and very contently – noting that The FF were nowhere to be seen. As swiftly as a clumsy person with multiple things in his arms can, I set off in a half jog, casting worried glances behind every now and then until I finally reached the parking house. It was not much of a comfort entering the dungeon-ish car park, but at least there were enough hiding spots that I could choose to be selective.

It was when I reached the stairs that I heard the ominous shuffle. I whirled around, and unlike those horror movies where the protagonist continues to hear weird sounds and feel stranger presences for a maddeningly long time, I had to face reality pretty fast. It was standing there at the opening, materialized as four various, all equally threatening silhouettes. Well, except for big guy. He looked _big_.

"_Eep_", I whimpered, and then I ran for it.

Well, not exactly. I simply hurried my ass up, hopefully without looking too suspicious. I heard their echoing steps behind me as I reached the second floor, and bit down on my lower lip in order to prevent myself from screaming for help like a banshee. And I had thought bringing the assault alarm would be exaggerating.

I shook the thought off, concentrated on more summoning matters - like escaping this might-be-nightmare. I was not feeling the slightest more secure when I ascended the last steps, since now the dark areas were fewer, which was not very reassuring since The FF positively would be searching for me, and not the other way around. I struggled to remain calm and composed as I began to cross the thousand miles of distance between me and my car, and when I heard their quiet steps echo in unison with mine, I almost dropped the food onto the cold, hard ground. Hours and days of watching _CSI _and _Criminal minds _with my mother had taught me a few things about psychos at hunt though – no sudden movements. This also equaled no running, which I had refrained from till now even though I wanted to do nothing else.

After what seemed like weeks I reached my car, clicking it open, getting in and turning the engine on with trembling hands. I had almost tossed my stuff onto the passenger seat in my panicked need to get out of here ASAP, and it was at the brink of tilting over when I all too violently backed out and hit the gas. I gasped and hit the brake just as quickly, when finding the familiar muscly guys right in front of the car. I almost shared eye contact with them, though hastily repositioned my gaze to the steering wheel, waiting for them to move.

It seemed to take an eternity, but then they were off the road and I was racing down it. I was out of the building in a snap, speeding down the tattered streets almost as crazily as the FF. Halfway out of Longview I started singing lowly to calm my pounding heart, and it was not until I was out of town that I felt my lungs fully function again. I reveled in the feeling of breathing slowly and silently, putting in an album of Michael Bublé and skipping forward to my favorite track, _Sway_. Thirty seconds in and I was fully relaxed.

"Only you have that magic technique, when we sway I go _weeeaak_, du du du DU! La lala lalala laalala…"

**DandranePOV**

Sex is awesome.

**ZenaPOV**

Miss D was not at home.

_Has she eloped with someone else? _screamed my first thought as I searched the bottom floor the second time. I pulled the curtains away again, glared at the dimly lit street and gave a disappointed huff. "The au_dacity_."

After making a failed attempt to call her, I shuffled up to the bathroom and prepared to go to bed. I came out with a towel wrapped around my hair and body, and a toothbrush working over the teeth. An unusual, obscure silence reigned over the house so I turned on one of Dandrane's self-made dance CDs before dancing into my room. I was doing an epically failed remake of the moonwalk just past my window, when I noticed it. Wait…- no, it was unmistakable. Outside, perfectly parked by the opposite house under a streetlight, was the Nissan from before.

I nearly screamed when I fully realized what I was seeing. I leapt away from the window, hiding behind the wall next to it, and peeked through the transparent, fair curtains. I felt nausea build up from the situation, which was worsened by all the minty foam in my mouth. The Mustang was nowhere to be seen, but who knew? And, holy shit, they were going to rape me in my own house. And I was wearing nothing but a towel!

I threw on a covering dress, towel still on the head and toothbrush bitten down in place, turned off all the lights as indiscreetly as ever and crawled to the bathroom so I would not be visible in the windows, just in case. Mouth cleansed, I wormed my way down the stairs and to the front door. Forcing away the fear I then stood, unlocked the door, and tore it open.

The darkness was tangible, and the cold bit my skin through the dress. I scowled into the night, but it was gone. The Nissan had left nothing but a violating suspense behind.

I slammed the door shut after a lingering minute, staring at it with heavy breaths. What. The buck. Had I just been stalked all the way home?

_I probably just imagined it_, inflicted my fear. Slowly, as it repeated the same words over and over, I began to nod in acceptance. _Of course. When you're afraid you see, feel and hear things that do not exist._ _It is, after all, scientifically proven._

All right, so maybe I was not completely sure of that. It was a reassuring thought though until I fell asleep alone, dreaming of fried chicken doing moonwalks around a mesmerizing, big guy in brown leather and jeans whose face I could not remember when I awoke the next morning.


End file.
